Chugging to Chicago

The Lakeshore Limited lost some time while I attempted to sleep last night, but the car attendant, Alfred, says we'll make up some of it as we race through Ohio and Indiana. I slept as expected - not well, but at least I was prone and covered in a blanket with a commode just inches away. No need for me to stumble half awake down the narrow hallway in search of a bathroom! I won't have that luxury on the California Zephyr.

We've just left Bryon, OH, which means we are only 35 mins behind schedule. If we make up 15 minutes or so, I'll still be impressed with our arrival time.

This part of Ohio, and its counter part across the state line, Indiana, is all tilled fields of green and brown, farmhouses, barns, silos, trackers, pockets of new housing communities, occasional vast, low buildings that I can't even begin to discern the purpose, small forests and western towns with brick and stone storefronts. I wouldn't call this the heartland of America. For me, the heart needs to be a pounding, pulsing urban metropolis, fast and strong and aggressive. This place seems more like the lungs, breathing the air that feeds and nourishes us, wide, open spaces that expand and contract depending on the season.

In some towns it is painful to see how hard hit they are by the economy. In others, everything looks fine, as if these communities are in their own protective shell.